The First Few Days
by catalystkrish
Summary: When the world was breaking around her, Em always had Finn. What happened the first few days, when James took over and the two were forced to flee?


I tightened my ponytail and took one last look in the cracked mirror. The gray wall behind me made my skin appear even more pale than usual and highlighted the dark circles under my eyes. My face seemed sharper and more narrow than normal, an effect always produced when I tied my hair up as tightly as I did now.

A knock sounded on my door. "Em," called Finn. "Are you ready?"

As ready as I'll ever be. I hoist my backpack over my shoulder and sling on my black jacket. It's three years old and still too big for me, but I draw comfort from the sweet smell of Luz that still lingers on the waterproof fabric. Tears of longing prick my eyes as I think about what I'm leaving.

Finn waits for me in the small hallway. His blond hair is damp and smells nice, a comforting scent I can't place. He's as pale as me, and his blue eyes seem washed out and lighter. I can't help but notice that he looks good, dressed simply and sensibly in a black shirt and pants with a jacket slung on and his backpack resting at his feet.

"Come on," he says quietly, and we pad soundlessly down the hallway. When we pass his mother's room he hesitates, longing and pain pulling at him like ocean waves. I rest my hand on his shoulder and squeeze it gently. If we do this, we need to leave now. There's no time to say goodbye.

We walk on, but all the color has drained from his face. Every step he takes is forced and tense, every second that passes painful and drawn out. I know how he feels because I have experienced it myself, leaving Luz behind in New York when I made my decision.

Peter waits for us near the door, holding a brown paper package. Silently he hands it to us. "Good-bye," he whispers. Finn bites his lip and turns away; I pause to give Peter a small hug.

Outside it's miserable, rainy and grey. It's as if the world knows what we're doing and is mourning our absence already. Finn's small grey car waits for us silently under the cover of a metal overhang. We have life supplies and a full tank of gas; by tomorrow, we will be long gone.

Darkness has fallen, and it's only because Finn can't keep his eyes open that we finally pull into the parking lot of a small motel somewhere in Connecticut.

He exchanges a few words with the clerk and tosses the room key to me. We haul our tired bodies up the stairs until the third floor.

"Why don't they install an elevator in this place?" mutters Finn irritably.

The room is small but sufficient, with two beds and a small bathroom. Finn takes the bathroom first, so I sit on the edge of a bed and close my eyes. Before I know it, I'm asleep.

I wake up to a thin gray morning. Light filters in through the window, but it's the pale light of early dawn, not the sunny brilliance of fully developed morning.

Finn is asleep, wearing the same clothes as before. I decide to shower before waking him so he can get ready immediately. We need to leave as soon as possible.

The water is cold, but I relish the sting against my skin. I scrub myself down with a rough sponge, pulling a layer of dirt away from my body. Rivulets of water run from my dark hair and the cold water seeps into my scalp, soothing it.

I dress in a red tabletop and white shorts, feeling a strange urge for a dash of color in this full world. Running a comb through my damp hair, I use my free hand to shake Finn awake. He groans and swats at me, but I keep at it until he opens one bleary blue eye. "Go away," he mutters.

"Oh, well, aren't you just Mister Cheerful today," I say. I flick my hair at him, smirking as the droplets of cold water hit his face and he flinches.

"All right, I'm up," he grumbles, hauling himself upright and pushing his hair out of his eyes. I want to smile, but it seems wrong. We aren't living in a time for smiling.

He comes out from the bathroom shirtless and awake. I turn my eyes away, feeling awkward. "You can look now," he says, sounding slightly amused.

I pretend to be busy, my cheeks reddening. "We should repackage and check out as soon as possible. Do you, um, have all your stuff?"

He nods. We are silent for a while before he clears his throat. "We should leave."

"Yeah," I say. We look at each other and then away again. I'd had no idea that this would be so awkward.

After one year of waking up early, you'd think I'd have gotten used to it. Still, my eyes stung and my whole body protested as I slowly rose from the depths of the dark dreams I held in my mind.

The first thing I realized after waking was that I was extremely comfortable. My whole body was deliciously warm and tucked in deep into the coverlets. A comforting weight pressed me snuggly down into the mattress.

Finn.

With a shock I remembered last night, when we'd walked into the motel room and found it with only one bed. We'd arranged that each would have a separate side, and has silently agreed bit to make contact. However...

Finn's arm was slung across my waist, his fingers curled up on my stomach. His chest was pressed to my back so close that I could feel each line and edge, each muscle tensing as he breathed in and out. His mouth was less than a centimeter away from my neck and his warm, hot breath raised the hairs on the back of my neck.

I remained as still as possible, my body rigid. How was I to get out of this without waking him? Which had higher priority: his much-needed sleep or my comfort?

Trying to ignore the shivers that ran down my spine, I closed my eyes and shifted slightly. Gradually, Finn's warmth wrapped me once again in its embrace and I drifted off to sleep.


End file.
